Vertical Expression
by AGirloftheSouth
Summary: An evening out.


A/N - This is my first, and maybe only, foray in the world of Jack and Phryne, but here it is. Thanks to my dear friend ScopesMonkey for going through this for me even though she's never watched a second of this show.

Disclaimer – Obviously, I own nothing.

**Vertical Expression**

* * *

Dancing is a vertical expression of a horizontal desire. ~ Robert Frost

Jack glanced down at the instructions again, rolling his eyes as he tucked them back into the pocket of his jacket. _Typical_, he thought shaking his head as he moved down the alley towards the red door. It rattled in its frame from the music on the other side, which caused even the trash bins to quiver to its beat. He looked around, ensuring he wasn't being watched, not that anyone in the alley would know who he was or care that he was going to this club. Hell, they'd probably be waiting to join him.

He lifted his hand a knocked three times quickly, then waited three seconds and knocked twice. There was a sliding noise and two eyes appeared in front of him through a window, watching him suspiciously. The music was even louder. Jack closed his eyes and thought of the words written in Miss Fisher's loopy hand in his pocket. "Happy Birthday to Ed. I tried to buy him a drink on Tuesday, but he was busy."

The man looked him up and down and he saw a quick nod before the small window closed and the door opened. The incredibly muscled man stepped to the side and Jack move past him, the smell of alcohol, cigarettes, and perfume surrounded him as he entered the small hallway.

"Miss Fisher told me to expect you," the big man said, catching Jack's attention. "She's in the back room," he gestured with his head down the hallway to the open area in the back. Jack nodded his thanks and handed his coat off to the young woman standing in front of an assorted collection of outerwear. She smiled at him as he handed his hat off and once again, moved towards the loud music.

The room was dark, the spotlights shining on the band, four men in white jackets playing a song he recognized but was unsure from where. The woman he suspected was the singer was standing in front of the stage, drink in her hand, gesturing emphatically. Jack smiled, watching the flower in the woman's hair bounce around and then fall off.

Obviously it wasn't secured properly, Phryne would never allow that. He let his eyes roam around the crowded room, spotting his inviter almost immediately. She was on the far side, arms in the air as a tall bald man ran his hands down her sides. Their bodies changing motions as the song changed. He smiled, watching them move together perfectly for a moment before he headed towards the bar. She hadn't seen him yet, and there was no rush. He knew she planned on being out late. He could get a drink and watch the room for a while. Watch Phryne enjoy herself.

He pointed at the scotch and a second later there was a glass in front of him. He picked it up, sipping easily as he leaned back against the bar, watching the crowd. There were more people than he expected, but it was so much bigger than the last club he'd been in with her. But then that had been a long time ago, and there was a dead blackmailer between them.

He continued sipping slowly as the music changed again and Jack eyed the bald man as he made his way over to the bar, settling next to him as he ordered a drink of his own. Their eyes met and Jack nodded a greeting.

"It's a good night out there, mate, great band."

"Beautiful women," Jack added, spotting Phryne with a shorter blonde man now, their bodies moving quickly together as the beat sped up. This man was too short for her, she towered over him. But the smile plastered on her face showed no indication that she felt uncomfortable. Jack watched her hips sway in time with the music, her dark blue dress moving with her. He savored another sip of the heavy drink as her movements caused a warming sensation low in his belly.

"Like that one there," the bald man said drawing Jack's attention back to him. "The brunette. She's amazing."

"Really?" Jack quizzed, shrugging his shoulders as if he was indifferent.

"Yea," the man said, pointing towards her as she spun around, a part of the dance floor moving to make room for her. "Look at her," he continued. "Prettiest woman in the room by far. The way she moves, the way she smells. Amazing…"

Jack nodded, draining his glass. "I should meet her then," he said finally catching Phryne's eyes across the room. She paused, her face lighting up for a moment before she leaned to kiss her blonde companion on the cheek. Jack sat his glass down, as Phryne stopped in the middle of the dance floor, waiting for the next dance even as the band sat their instruments aside, obviously taking a break. Everyone else moved aside, and quickly she was the only one there.

"I don't know," the bald man said, grabbing Jack's arm, catching his attention again. He shook his head, and gestured towards Phryne. "I think there's a wait, I know for a fact she promised me another. And I'm not the only one thinking about later in the evening."

Jack easily pulled his arm away and smiled at the bald man over his shoulder. "Thanks for the advice, but I think I'll try anyway. I don't like to wait."

The bald man frowned, and Jack saw a flash of what he thought was anger before he turned back and focused his attention on reaching Phryne. She was smiling at him, her head tilted slightly to the side as he moved towards her. She was waiting to greet him, he knew, in whatever enthusiastic way she had planned, so he stopped short, outside of her reach.

She frowned, her hand reaching towards him as he glanced quickly at the bald man again, who was now joined by a very big, very muscular man who was glaring at Jack as well. He turned back to Phryne and saw that she'd focused her attention on the men as well.

"Are you making friends?" she whispered, holding up a hand and waving her fingers at them.

"I'm sorry, miss," he said, holding his hand out to her. "Jack Robinson," he continued his voice deliberately loud.

She straightened and turned her attention back to Jack. She took his hand and shook it dutifully, a sly grin forming.

"Hello Mr. Robinson," she said. "Phryne Fisher. It's a pleasure."

"The pleasure is all mine," he said bringing her hand up to place a kiss on the back of it. She giggled in the way that let him know she was enjoying the game, so he moved closer to her. "This chap over here," he gestured towards the bald man, "said you've got a dance card full of names, but I was wondering if I could have the next one?"

She looked around him towards the bald man again. "Peter was very nice," she said, "and I did promise him another. And I promised Patrick there one too," she waved at the big muscular man. "But I think I can fit you in."

"Good," Jack said closing the distance between them. He wrapped his arm around her waist and started moving with her, even though the only noise was the sound of the crowd talking. She threw her head back and laughed, but didn't stop them. He'd known she wouldn't, moving easily along with him to the familiar steps of a waltz they'd danced many times before. It was slow, nothing like the dancing she'd been doing just minutes before, but with her body pressed tight against him he found this just as sultry as the spinning dress.

Peter had been right, she smelled euphoric. A deep musky aroma combined with the natural smell of her, which was intoxicating in its own right. He took a deep breath through his nose and held it, letting the aroma of her make him lightheaded. He closed his eyes a moment, and moved his lips to her ear, whispering.

"Dear Peter told me I shouldn't bother trying to dance with you, said you were too busy." He felt her hair flutter as his breath brushed past her ear and felt the slight shiver that went down her spine at the sensation. He smiled as he continued. "He also hinted that he was going to take you home tonight. As you can imagine I found that assumption particularly annoying."

She pushed back slightly and giggled, laughing not at what he said, but to draw attention to them, to her and what it looked like he was whispering to her. "Naughty boy," she said before she pushed away enough so she could look at him, but not disrupt their dance. His breath caught in his chest; she'd put on her best seductress face, the one she always insisted was wasted on Jack. He'd been able to resist it initially, and she never had to do anything more than look at him now. Hell, sometimes she didn't have to do that, but he did enjoy seeing her like this every once in a while.

"Well," she said, also keeping her voice low as the band started to make their way back onto the stage. Their slow waltz would end soon, and the thought of that made him a bit sad, even if he knew she'd dance with him later if he wanted. She'd dance with him anytime he wanted. "Do you want to stay here and share me some more?" she asked, her eyes darting around to Peter and Patrick again. "Or we could stay and I could ignore them, and only pay attention to you."

"That would clearly show I won the prize," he said, smiling, despite her eye roll at being referred to as some object to be won.

"Or," she said leaning close enough so she could whisper in his ear now. "We could just go, walk right past them and out the door."

"Ah," he said, keeping his voice low and trying to ignore the way her breath across his neck made him feel. "But you wanted to dance the night away, as I recall."

"Mmhmm," she answered, swaying against him as the musicians each gave their instrument a quick test. "But watching my straight-laced Jack Robinson take command always does something to me, even if you aren't being serious."

He stopped their dance, and took his own turn at pushing back. "I take everything about you very seriously," he said, letting the truth show on his face. She smiled at him, nodding slightly before he continued. "But we will do whatever you want. I promised you we'd dance. You were right yesterday, you haven't been out like this in a long time." She was shaking her head before he was finished.

"It was fun," she looked back towards Peter and Patrick. Jack glanced as well, and saw Peter push off the bar heading back towards them, towards Phryne. The police officer in him mentally prepared for trouble, but trusted that Phryne could better diffuse it than he'd be able to. "But I think I want just you now," she said quickly, turning her attention back to Jack, and smiling at him in the split second before she pushed up on her tiptoes and kissed him.

She deepened it immediately, and Jack moaned despite himself, wrapping his arms around her. Her fingers grabbed at the short hairs on the back of his neck, a split second before she pulled away, leaving both of them gasping. He opened his eyes to see the grin on her face the second before she turned away from him. Her fingers wove through his and she pulled gently.

"Listen, Peter," she said to the man who'd obviously stopped dead in his tracks at the kiss. "I'm sorry, I know I owe you a dance, but Jack here," she glanced over her shoulder at him, quickly winking, "made me the most amazing offer. I've never stayed in the Windsor before, and I'd love to. He says he has a room there."

Jack almost laughed, thinking of Phryne in her large Windsor suite when she'd first returned to Australia. That was long before he'd been in love with her though.

"Wait," Peter managed as she pulled Jack past him and towards the door. She stopped in front of the young woman and grabbed both hers and his coats and hats. They put them on quickly, and she grabbed his hand again as they headed towards the door.

She nodded at the man still on watch, and before he knew it they were in the street. "Did you take a taxi?" she asked.

"I took Bert and Cec per instructions," he answered patting his jacket pocket where he put the note she'd left for him that morning.

"Good," she replied, "then you can drive. The Windsor is just a few blocks away."

Jack laughed, pulling on her hand to slow her down. She stopped and stood in front of him, eyes shining between the moonlight and the street lamps. "The Windsor? They'll recognize you," he said simply, secrecy being something he clung to desperately.

"Jack," she said faking exasperation, "The staff at The Windsor are the model of discretion. And it isn't as if I haven't brought men there before." He felt a surge of anger, but pushed it down. Phyrne's past was hardly a secret; he just wished sometimes she'd not be so open with him about it. She giggled at the look on his face, and she leaned up to place a kiss on his chin.

"My silly Jack," she said, tugging on his hand again. "The walls are very high quality there," she said pulling him towards the car. "You won't have to fuss about keeping me quiet. I do know how you worry about that."

"Jesus, Phryne," he said the memory of her vocalizations flipping something on in his brain. She laughed again as she dropped him off on the driver's side and made her way around.

"It isn't as if it's my fault you are so talented with that tongue of yours."

He felt the blush creep into his cheeks as he started the car, and her hand settling on his thigh didn't lead him to believe it would be faded by the time they got to the hotel.


End file.
